Details baby, Details
by mMaggieB
Summary: My season 8! So... Basically I think that Jackie and Hyde were meant to be. And I really didn't like how season 7 left off (obviously) Here is my version of what happened at the end of season 7 and onwards :) Please enjoy and let me know what you think! #Jackie&HydeEndGame
1. Chapter 1

**What really happened ("What should have happened")**

 **The night Steven walks in on Jackie and Kelso in the motel, how I think it should have gone (or how I think it "did" go)**

 **There will probably be more installments after this so keep an eye out and** **follow and review!** **(DISCLAIMER: I do like Michael and the other characters, but this fic will mostly be based on Hyde and Jackie's relationship, and what I think the writers could have done in season 8)**

 **Obviously I don't own That 70's Show or any of the characters.**

"Cool room!" Kelso drops the bags on the ground and goes straight for the bed, leaping onto it and then promptly falling off.

She watches as he picks himself up, quickly checking for broken bones before giving her a goofy smile and a thumbs up. Normally a display like this would have at least brought her a chuckle at his expense. But tonight, she only rolls her eyes, dropping her purse on the green shag carpet.

"Yeah, as far as motel's go, it almost looks livable." she murmurs under her breath, the tears from earlier threatening to bubble to the surface, the stale room reminding Jackie (probably a little too much) of Hyde's basement.

"Jackie look, you get a porn menu!" Michael is flipping through the book of cable channels, completely oblivious to her foggy expression, and the fact that she hasn't moved from the doorway.

Pressing her lips together, she nods, trying to make an effort to appear enthusiastic about the menu of porn...for some reason.

But instead, quiet tears fall down her face, completely failing to keep my cool.

Finally, Michael looks up at his friend, just in time to watch her wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Jackie…" setting down the channel guide, he scoots off the bed and quickly hugs his girl. "Don't cry," she wraps her arms around his waist, doing exactly that. She sobs into his chest, her entire body shaking with her unbridled emotions.

"Ahh jeez," he sighs, looking around the room for something to cheer her up, "Hey!" He says, letting her go and reaching for the drapes covering the windows. "We can make fun of these ugly old-lady curtains!"

Pulling away, she sniffles and wipes her nose of her sleeve. Blinking at the hideous fabric, she sighs.

"You know," she tilts her head, "I'm not even bothered by them,"

Michael pauses, looking between her and the window. "Aw crap, he broke you!"

Walking over to the bed, she flops down on the squeaking mattress. "Ugh Michael, I don't think anything will make me feel better."

Pausing a second, he crosses the room, sitting down next to her.

"Well Jackie," He shrugs, "I guess we just do the only thing we can do."

frowning, she lifts herself up on her elbows, looking at him sideways; she's almost afraid to ask.

"We do it. In hopes that my good lovin' makes you so happy that you forget all about Hyde, and the fact that he doesn't love you and won't marry you."

So much bothers her about that sentence that she can't think of anything else to do but make a fist, and punch him in the arm.

"Ow Jackie!" Kelso rubs where her boney knuckles made contact, "You've been hanging out with Hyde too long, that _hurt_."

"Good!" she sits up, "Michael, sex is not the magical answer to everything." standing up she plants her hands on her hips. "Especially not in a sleazy motel like this. There are probably creepy homeless people lurking in the parking lot watching us." she shivers, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.

"Pssh," Michael goes to the window, peering out the hideous blinds. "Nuh-uh, no one can- wait," Michael squints into the dark, "Naaah, I'm sure we're good." turning around he grins.

Pursing her lips at the ridiculous man in front of her, she shakes her head. "Still not gonna happen."

"But Jackie, I'm almost possitive that no one can see us!"

" _Right_ ," she nods sarcastically, " _That's_ the only things stopping me from sleeping with you."

Pausing, he frowns, "and I'm telling you, it's not an issue!"

Rolling her eyes, she throws her hands up, "I can't believe I ever let you touch me with your dumb hands."

"...That was hurtful." Kelso crosses his arms, fidgeting that way he does when he gets all worked up. "You know what, we were great together." Approaching her slowly, he puts his hands in his pockets, shrugging.

Jackie presses her lips together, willing herself to back away, but nothing is happening; her feet are planted.

And then he's right in front of her, and when he leans down to kiss her, she can't even bring herself to stop him.

Her lips don't respond at first, they just stay motionless as his seem to ask for more. Finally, she begins to kiss him back, bringing her bottom lip to his top lip, his hands find her hips.

Closing her eyes tight, she opens her mouth softly, waiting for him to respond with the same building passion, the same soft touch that quickly turns into something intense and gentle-the kind of kiss that she feels all over, and takes the breath out of her lungs; forcing her to lean in without a second thought.

But this kiss doesn't build, her body doesn't respond the way she wants it to, the way she's used to. Her hands are limp on his arms, her lips trying hard to manifest the passion that's not there.

He doesn't kiss like Steven.

Her eyes open and she steps away, leaving them both standing there, half kissed.

"Umm," she shakes her head, trying to clear it, "That was a mistake, I'm sorry, that was-" shaking her head, she tries to erase the moment from her mind. "Michael, that shouldn't have…" She trails off, crossing her arms over her chest.

Kelso looks disappointed, no doubt wishing she would give up and have sex with him, the way she used to when they were dating and his persistence would finally get to her.

But she doesn't, and he doesn't press her. Because they've both grown. They don't understand it, and they can't explain it, but they feel it. She's grown up, and he's grown up, and everything means more now.

Sighing, Jackie combs her hands through her hair turning away from him, she catches her breath. Grabbing the copy of cosmo from her purse, she drops it on the bed.

"You know Michael, I'm feeling much better, you could probably go now."

"Jackie," Michael pouts, "Look, I'm sorry for kissing you. That was stupid. But It's dark

now, and it's late. Don't make me drive home tonight." his puppy-dog eyes coming out at the most convenient time, he blinks pathetically at her.

"Ugh," she shrugs, "fine, but not more messing around." she points a stern finger at him, both of them feeling the tension of the moment melting between them, she kicks off her shoes and grabs a blanket and pillow, tossing them on the floor beside the bed.

"And I get the bed because I'm sad and a girl."

"Fine," he says sitting down next to her.

"Ugh, and take a shower," she pushes him away, snatching her magazine from under his

butt. "You smell like road trip."

"Jeez, you're mean when you're depressed!" he exclaims, "May I suggest instead of using me as an emotional punching bag, we drink our troubles away?" leaning over the bed, he unzips her suitcase, producing a sixpack of beer.

"What?!" she stands, frowning, "When did you put that in there?"

"I snuck it in when you were saying goodbye to Donna." he snickers, obviously proud of himself, pulling one of the cans from the plastic holder, he tosses it her way.

"Mmm," she turns the can over in her hands, "and all warm from the Chicago sun too!" she exclaims sarcastically, "moron."

"Crap." he reaches for it, looking at the can, as if contemplating whether he could still enjoy it lukewarm. After a moment he breaks it open, taking a sip. "Damn," he says, "That's not all that bad. It's like the time that Hyde told me if I microwaved my beer it would make it taste like strawberries."

Jackie stares at him blankly.

"It didn't taste like strawberries," he assures her, as if she believed it for a second, "but it kind of tasted like this."

"Right…" she sits back down on the bed, stretching out with her magazine, "Back to my point. I'm not sleeping in the same room as you if you don't take care of whatever dead animal that you must've rolled in to smell the way that you do. Now shoo!" she jabs a finger at the bathroom.

"You're not my girlfriend anymore so you can't tell me what to do!" he points back at her.

Narrowing her eyes, she doesn't budge.

Kelso begins to fidget.

"So I'm going to go and take a shower. But only because I want to, not because you told me to." he states before entering the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

Jackie smiles at his ridiculousness, rolling her eyes.

"Idiot."

The shower turns on and Jackie rolls onto her side, listening to the white noise of the water

against the tile, and the murmur of voices through the thin walls. and she thinks for the hundredth time since she's moved here, why she bothered to come.

Her life, her friends and her heart all live in Wisconsin. And as her eyes begin to fill with tears again, all she wants is to be back here. Back in the stupid basement, with her stupid friends, loving her stupid boyfriend even if it drove him crazy; but she was here, and all she could think to do is cry until she falls asleep.

Unfortunately, Kelso has different plans.

Emerging from the bathroom, a towel around his waist and one tied in his hair like a girl, he spots her, tears and all, on the bed.

"Jackie no!" he says quickly, "Don't cry! Here look," he points at the towel on his head, "I did this because while we were dating when I would do it, you would point and laugh, and it really hurt my feelings, but it always seemed to cheer you up!"

His explanation does bring a smile to her face as she mops up her snot and tears with the cheap pillowcases.

"See," he points as she is now giggling at his hilarious appearance. "Told ya."

That's when he spots the open beer can in her hand, and he frowns.

"Are you drinking the warm beer without me?" he yells, as if he's a child missing out on Disneyland.

"This," she holds up the can, "is the grossed thing I've ever drank."

"Well come on Jackie, what do you expect? I found it sitting outside the buss station."

"Michael!" she sits up, holding the can away from her is disgust.

Holding up his hands, he backs away, pulling the towel from his head, "Calm down, I'm sure this dump has ice somewhere. I'll go find some, and when I get back we'll get buzzed and burn Hyde's Led Zepplin T-shirt-that I know you packed." he tacks on at the end, pointing an accusatory finger at her. she gives him a guilty look and shrinks in on herself a little.

And with that he exits the room, still mostly naked, and still damp.

Letting out a sighing laugh, she places the warm buss station beer on the bed side table, wiping her fingers off on the bed (Lord knows where that's been). Laying down on her stomach, she retrieves her cosmo from the head of the bed and flips it open. Her eyes skimming the pages, but not a word sinks in, and she can't seem to form a single judgement about an outfit or a celebrity's life choice.

Something is seriously wrong.

Three knocks on the door announce that Kelso is back, and being polite enough to knock first. That's not like him.

"Come in," she says, flipping the page of her magazine to a quiz that is supposed to tell you what colour your sex aura is… Although Jackie's not sure what a "sex aura" is exactly, she'll probably make Kelso take it.

Glancing up just as the door swings open, Kelso's flimsy, and mostly naked body does not emerge from the other side.

"Hey," Steven greets her casually, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary, him being here, in Chicago, at midnight. In her motel room.

"Steven!" Jackie exclaims, quickly pushing herself up off the scratchy duvet, the knowledge that Michael could walk in at any second in nothing but a towel causes her palms to sweat and the worry to leak into her voice.

Fixing herself slightly, she can't imagine what she looks like. Her eyes might be puffy and her dress is crooked; but there's only one mirror in this damn room and it's in the bathroom! Who built this place, men?

"What are, umm, what're you doing here?" Jackie crosses her arms over her chest, praying her nervousness isn't quite as obvious to him as it is to herself.

Just as uncomfortable as she is, Hyde looks around the room, never having thought of a

half decent excuse on the way up here, he settles. "Uhh, nothing." he shrugs, "had some free time, thought I'd check out Chicago." he nods along with his pathetic excuse, wishing there was another reason he'd be in Chicago besides her.

But she was his reason. And he was beginning to come to terms with that.

She nods with him, her eyes slipping to the door that she prays never opens. "Umm,

good," her unconvincing tone and the awkward silence afterwards makes her stomach do a turn. His eyes never leave hers, and it's as if he's trying to read the lies hidden behind her words.

"Hey, do you want to take a walk, maybe get something to eat?" Jackie gestures to the door, desperate to get him out of the room before Kelso shows up and ruins this hopeful moment.

Hyde opens his mouth, having hardly heard what she'd just asked, ready to say the words he'd planned all the way from Wisconsin. His speech to Jackie that he'd written a hundred times on the back of a Hub napkin, minutes after her ultimatum. The words he'd agonized over since the word marriage had entered their relationship.

Of course he wanted to marry her. But he was scared shitless, and he needed her to be okay with that.

Jackie's stomach falls to the bottom of her feet as the door behind Steven swings open, cutting off the words he was about to say, as Kelso re-entered the room, voice first.

That damn voice of his…

"Hey Jackie I checked, no one can see us doing it from the parking LOT-" Michael screams when he sees Hyde, angry as ever, standing in Jackie's motel room. The ice in Michael's hands goes flying over his shoulder in his panicked state.

So much for cold buss station beer.

So much for Steven's agonized speech.

So much for Jackie's hopeful heart.

And so much for growing up and doing the right thing. Even with the purest intentions, somehow Jackie's still managed to get burned in all of this. Worst of all she let it happen. And now…

In the silence of the room, the tension could be cut with a knife. Hyde's eyes lock onto Kelso as Kelso cringes, his wild eyes darting between Steven and Jackie, as if he's searching for an emergency exit.

"You're dead." Is all Steven says before making a move towards Michael. Kelso quickly darts, heading back the way he came, Hyde snatching the tail end of his damn robe, and pulling it off as Kelso flee's.

"I'm nude!" Kelso calls from the motel parking lot.

Steven stands, towel in hand, collecting himself slightly before turning back around to Jackie.

"Steven-" she begins, taking a step towards him.

"Save it Jackie," Hyde point, chucking the towel at her feet, "I get it."

"No, Steven," Hyde leaves the room before she can finish her thought. "Steven would you just listen for a minute please," she runs after him, her bare feet tingle on the cool stone of the parking lot.

"Why Jackie?" He turns, forcing her to come up short. The only light coming from one of the cheap street lamp that hangs over Stevens El Camino, buzzing quietly in the otherwise silent evening. "So you can tell me how there's nothing going on between you a Kelso? That what I saw in there was nothing?" He's talking fast and loud, the way he does when he talks about ABBA or the government.

"There is _nothing_ going on with Michael and I," she pleads, her voice rough from crying and her hands shake with desperation, "that was _nothing_ , Steven," she reaches for him, her hand finding his hand, but he quickly shakes her off. It stings like a slap in the face.

"You know what, do me a favour Jackie," he snaps, pointing a finger at her. "Just tell me the truth." his shoulders sag with defeat and this aching feeling that seems to throb in his chest. "You're saying that absolutely _nothing_ happened in there, with you two?"

His gaze is steady, and her heart is breaking in two.

Because the longer the silence goes on, the farther she can feel him falling away from her.

Tears burn and blossom in the corners of her eyes, and when she can't make herself say the words, she knows she's lost him. "Steven…" she whispers through her tight throat, wrapping her arms around herself, as if she's trying to hold her breaking pieces together.

He shakes his head, his vision blurry with anger and frustration. He hadn't cried since his mom left. And he wasn't going to do it now. Not over this. Not for her.

"No," he steps back, retrieving his keys from his pocket, he runs his hand down his face, taking in an angry breath and letting it out. "No, I'm not doing this Jackie, I'm done." he pulls his car door open and slides in, slamming the door so hard the windows rattle.

"Steven!" Jackie calls, walking to the front of the car, tempted to stand at the back and force him to either stay here or run her over. But she's afraid he might choose the ladder.

He can hear her calling him as he pulls out of the space, and even as he drives out of the parking lot; but he keeps a heavy foot on the gas as he points his car towards Wisconsin, leaving a huge piece of himself back there in that motel room.

 **So! Please review and tell me what you thought! As you can see, I'm skipping the Vegas shenanigans and continuing the story in the way I think would have been much more hopeful for us Hyde/Jackie shippers.**

 **Stay tuned for more soon :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**YES, I CHANGED MY NAME! :) I like this one better! I am still the same MMBeaudoin- I just thought this was a little more cryptic and more me. Sorry for any confusion! Anyway…**

 **Here is my continuation of my version of season 8. As you'll notice, it does not perfectly line up with the show. I always loved the idea of Hyde working with Red, so in my story, he's still at the muffler shop, and has been promoted to manager and him and Red have a pretty solid relationship. There may be a few more changes too, but you'll catch onto those yourself :) Let me know what you think and sorry for any grammar mistakes!**

 **Cheers**

 **CHAPTER TWO**

Jackie sits paralyzed on the bed, her hands knot in her lap, her eyes and voice sore from trying to hold the tears at bay. The room feels hollow as Kelso gathers his things, leaving the warm beer on the dresser and the ice melting into the shag carpet.

"Jackie, are you sure you don't want me to-"

"I'm fine Michael, just go please," she meant it to come out angry and clipped. But her

words fall flat and quiet. "Thanks for the ride." she says the words, but she can't bring herself to look him in the eye.

Kelso hesitates, knowing that if he leaves now she'll cry some more, torture herself with what's just happened.

But she doesn't want him there, and so he picks up his jacket and leaves the room.

A few minutes later, Jackie hears his engine startup and then fade into the night.

Crumpling in on herself, she pulls her knees to her chest, and burrows into the uncomfortable thought that Steven came to reconcile, to get her back and start a life with her… knowing that she'd ruined it all with a stupid misunderstanding and a second's lapse in judgement. She kissed him. Why did she insist on sabotaging her own heart?

Letting go of what's left of her control, she cries herself it's exhaustion, and eventually drifts into an uneasy sleep.

Meanwhile, Steven's El Camino pulls aggressively into the Forman's driveway, knocking over the garbage cans simultaneously. Kicking his door open, he slams it behind him, entering the house through the basement door, not even bothering to be quiet about it.

In the dark he runs directly into the couch, jamming his toe into the wooden frame.

"Arghmm!" He stifles his shout, his anger had built and built over the ride until he was ready to burst. The pain from his foot tips him over the edge. "Shit!" he yells at the top of his lungs, grabbing hold of whatever is closest to him; which happens to be Kelso's favorite chair, and he throws it on it's side. A loud crash indicates that it hit and broke something potentially valuable.

"God Damnit!" he curses again, lowering himself into a crouch, his heart hammers against his ribs. He covers his face with his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. "Shit." he says into his hands, hating the moisture that stings behind his closed eyes.

He stays this way, unmoving and silent, listening to his heart slow and his spinning mind seems to find its place back on earth.

"Steven?" Red's voice breaks him out of his fog, he opens his eyes, the basement light has been turned on, the fluorescents shine through the paces between his fingers.

Hyde takes a moment, collecting himself and his wild thoughts before he drops his hands from his face and stands; scrambling for the pieces of his dignity now scattered all over the basement floor.

"Mr. Forman." Hyde nods, his voice husky and quieter than he meant it. Red is looking at him as if he's sprouted three heads and a tail. He looks around the room, taking in the vandalism and the young man, standing crookedly in front of him.

"What in the hell," Red asks, his mind still foggy with sleep, he watches with wide eyes as the boy before him fidgets, his eyes red and unfocused. His anger and confusion begin to be replaced with an entirely new feeling, pulling in his chest. Concern trickles through him, softening his stance.

"Are you drunk?" There's a note of anger to his incredulous tone.

Hyde runs a hand down his face, trying to clear his mind enough to answer. He could try lying… But that would consist of being able to form a coherent sentence, and make it believable.

"Drunk," Hyde nods, his voice thick and slow, his body carries on in jerky movements as he walks over to the record player, picking up a favorite record of his, and slipping it out of the case carefully. All the while, Red watching, speechless at the display in front of him. "And just a little pissed off," and in one fell swoop, Steven throws the record at the wall, breaking into pieces.

"Steven!" Red raises his voice and steps forward. "If you don't stop this behavior, you'll be out of here," he points to the door, "Out on the streets where you belong." anger surges through him, "Driving drunk, you show up here out of your mind, trash my basement! Who the hell do you think you are?!"

Red is only getting warmed up, when Steven finally looks him in the eye. In a moment of pure agony, pierces Red with his hollow and agonized look, effectively leaving Red with no more words to shout.

Red has never seen Steven like this; his usually guarded expression has been replaced with one of pain and sadness. He feels immediate discomfort, and becomes completely silent and still, his fatherly instincts keeping him from uttering another angry syllable.

Steven doesn't seem to have registered the change, and continues in his muted levels.

"You know what's funny Red?" he asks, his words slurring, "Is that I made a decision tonight. An actually, honest to God decision about my life." he's pointing crookedly at his father figure now, "I decided that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life angry, hold up in your basement."

Red stays quiet, waiting as the sloppy words spill out of Hyde, intoxicated and uncomfortably vulnerable.

"And I was gonna marry that girl." He moves his finger away from Red, pointing to the door, in the general direction of Chicago.

Understanding dawns on Red as Hyde pulls his arms from his jacket sleeves, throwing it on the ground at his feet, he continues, even though Red is sure he's heard enough.

"And I drove there, to tell her that!" he's getting loud again, and a creek from the stairs quietly announces that Kitty is awake, and listening by the door. Hyde fidgets, his head spinning as he paces, nearly tripping over his jacket. "And she's in a God Damn motel room with Kelso! The bastard who couldn't keep his dick in his pants for two seconds while he was with her!"

Red calmly walks over to the couch, and slowly sits, letting the young man's words sink in.

Hyde's shoulder shake with humourless laughter, and he's shaking his head, "What a waste man," he states, his voice seeming to lose its edge. "What a _fucking_ waste."

The silence that falls between them goes all but unnoticed by the intoxicated young man, while Red sits, trying to form a sentence that will both reassure, and effectively end this uncomfortable conversation.

"Steven," Red finally says, slowly standing up from the ratty old couch and walks up to Hyde, "Life is full of unfair moments. You know," he gestures at him, "You've been dealt a difficult hand."

Steven goes to step away; maybe he can drive and eventually get rid of this sick feeling churning in the pit of his stomach,

"And I'm sorry son,"

These words cause Steven to stop in his tracks, freeze where he is.

"What?" he asks, an incredulous tone to his voice.

Red shifts, his discomfort obvious. He clears his throat, shrugging his shoulders.

"It sounds like you've had a hard night." He tries to bring his voice back to its usual cool and serious, "Now give me your keys." holding out his hand, Steven can tell it's not a request. With a moment's hesitation he digs in his pocket, producing his keys and dropping them in Reds waiting hand.

"You're not going anywhere tonight, so why don't you just get some sleep. You'll be thinking clearer in the morning." and with that, Red turns away and starts up the stairs. "Kitty," he nods at his wife, sitting near the top, her eyes tearful. "Go hug the boy."

 **Yeah, it's short.. Please review and stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is installment number three! Sorry it took so long, hope you're all enjoying it so far, and I always love to get your feedback.**

 **Cheers!**

The end of her pencil tastes like metal and led. Her eyes drift from one corner of the table to the other, focusing in and out. Someone calls her name, but her ears are turned out, tuned to the fast moving traffic just outside the studio doors. The highway back to Wisconsin so close she can taste it.

"Miss Burkhart?"

Jackie jumps, the pencil falling from between her lips and onto the desk in front of her, the sharp led tip breaking, sending dust across the pages.

"Sorry, what?" she blinks at the small crew, and the camera lenses that surround her.

Her agent blinks at her and looks towards the director. "You're on in 5," she repeats slowly, as if Jackie was a child and needed to be spoken to in a slow and calming voice.

"Okay,' she nods, sitting up straighter and clearing her throat, she checks her hair in the mirror off to the side of the set. Her eyes scan the pages in front of her; her outline of celebrity gossip and beauty tips laid out in front of her, ready for her second official episode of 'The Jackie Show'.

Pick up the first page, she reads through the paragraph quickly in her head.

 _"_ _Today we are talking about ways to not only get a man but keep him. If you follow these simple steps, you can get on the road to a happy life and a happy relationship to last a lifetime."_

Jackie's brows pull together as she reads down the list of manipulative tips and tricks. Half of them she's sure she's tried on Steven, and he'd just laughed hysterically and messed up her hair, telling her to just shut up and chill.

 _Step 3:_ _Dress to impress. The sexier the better. They say leave it up to the imagination,_

 _but a pair of heels and a little cleavage never killed anyone did it?_

Two years ago, Jackie would have agreed wholeheartedly with this statement. However, she'd dated Hyde for almost that long, and she'd never seen him happier than when she crawled into bed wearing just his baggy and tired Led Zepplin t-shirt for the first time.

 _"_ _You look so hot, I don't even really want you to take it off." he'd said, "I mean I do but…" running his eyes over the well-worn shirt as Jackie laid underneath him, their passionate moment put on hold with his fixation on her clothing choice._

 _"_ _Steven," Jackie had rolled her eyes, grabbing his shoulders, trying to resume where they'd left off._

 _"_ _I'm serious, you should wear this every day."_

 _"_ _Ugh, get bent."_

Maybe these tips aren't as universal as she'd once thought.

Her stomach turns, and she suddenly feels nauseous, he palms sweat.

"Ready Jackie?" the director asks, giving her a thumbs up.

"Oh." Jackie says, her eyes drifting up from the page in her hands, trying hard to swallow the lump in her throat. "No," she says, pushing her chair back and grabbing her bag from behind the show desk. "Actually, I have to go."

" _What?"_ her director says, while her agent exclaims, _"Excuse me?!"_

"I should rephrase, actually, I quit." she rushes to collect the rest of her things from the set before turning around, and nodding at the crew. "Sorry," she says, and then quickly bolts from the set, hurrying out the back door before her agent can catch up with her and wring her neck.

The lights are still on in the Forman's windows, though it seems late for them to be awake. Jackie combs her fingers through her hair and checks her reflection in the cab driver's rear view mirror, she's shaking with anticipation and anxiety. Steven hadn't so much as taken a call from her since he stormed out of her motel two weeks ago. Jackie had spent her time in Chicago crying and trying to throw herself into the glamour of her new job.

Unfortunately neither of which could distract her enough from what she really wanted.

She quickly pays the driver and hops out into the rain, shielding her hair with her jacket and jogs to the door. Turning the unlocked knob, she ducks inside before she can get any more soaked.

"Jackie!" Donna exclaims as Jackie fixes the collar of her coat. Mrs. Forman, Donna and Eric are all sitting in front of Gilligan's Island, Donna jumps up at the sight of her friend, cold and wet.

"Hey," Jackie says, nodding and then shivering, feeling like she should probably say more.

Donna reaches for Jackie instinctively, and pulls her into a hug. Against her will, she missed this shallow, self-centered little-person. "What're you doing here?"

"Is Steven here?" she asks, hugging her friend back, but also glancing around the immediate area, searching for the person she came to see.

Donna pulls away and holds Jackie at arm's length.

"No, he's still at the muffler shop, Jackie, why aren't you in Chicago?"

Jackie frowns, shaking her hair out, cursing the weather. How was she supposed to get Hyde back while looking like a drowned mouse? Glancing at the clock on the wall, Donna's words begin to register.

"Wait, he's still at work? It's eleven at night," she watches all of their faces fall a little, Donna looks at Eric, and Eric scratches the back of his neck, glancing to his mother. No one says a word.

Understanding dawns on Jackie, her mind going back to the nights when they would fight and he would retreat to the garage, work on his car until midnight, throwing himself into work until he was too tired to keep his eyes open.

It was his way of coping with things he didn't want to face.

"Right," Jackie nods, tears prickling behind her eyes, and she leaves as quickly as she came, not bothering to call a second cab. Donna calls after her, but she's already on her way, the rain pouring down her back, chilling her to the bone. It's not a far walk to the muffler shop.

The windows of the shop are foggy, the Rolling Stones playing quietly from the back room, Hyde works numbly, his hands moving of their own accord, assembling and polishing until his fingers move slow and sluggish. He'd long run out of beer, and decided that this, being dead sober, was not his favorite thing.

Jackie squints through the windows, the dim like inside obscured by the water that runs down the glass. She attempts to knock on the window, but sees no sign that anyone heard her. She tries again, louder this time.

"Come on Steven," Jackie says under her voice, her breath turning to mist in from of her and then evaporating just as quickly.

A shadow across the back wall makes Jackie jump and fall away from the window, nearly hitting her head on the awning. Just then, the door to the shop swings open, and Steven is standing in the doorway; he doesn't even look surprised to see her, just confused and maybe a little angry.

"Hey," she says, but her voice gets lost in the rain, water dripping from the tip of her nose.

He blinks at her, taking her in, completely undone and imperfect, it'd been a long time since he'd seen her like this. Or at all.

"What happened to Chicago?" His facial expression gives away nothing, his voice is even and careful. Jackie wishes she could compose herself like him in situations like this; but her body always seems to betray her. Filling her eyes with tears, her hands shaking as she crosses her arms over her chest, shivering against the cold.

" _You_ happened to Chicago." the words come out in one big sigh. Until now she hadn't realized how much her feelings for Steven frustrated her. How much she wished she could be in Chicago, starting her career and living the life she thought she was cut out for. But instead, she's here, right back to where she started. Standing in the rain, waiting on the boy with the broken heart.

He stands, the front of his shirt slowly soaked by the downpour, his eyes search her face, like he's waiting for her to say more.

When she doesn't and the silence drags on, he slowly lets the door to the shop close behind him. The bell above the door sounds sharp in the otherwise quiet night, he locks it behind him with a small gold key.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turns his serious gaze back to her. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, feeling his eyes comb over her, like he's trying to read her but he doesn't know the language.

"Come on," he pulls his jacket tighter around himself, nodding towards his car, parked around the side of the shop. It looks shiny and strangely animated in the rain. "I'll drive you home."

 **Sorry it's kind of short! Let me know what you guys think and keep your eyes open for an update soon :)**


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